


Le Plat Principal Or, How To Prepare Your First-Year Boy

by Lexalicious70



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M, Ogres
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27069709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexalicious70/pseuds/Lexalicious70
Summary: Quentin is captured by hungry ogres during a magical blackout, and it's up to Eliot to outsmart them before his partner becomes a buffet for the hungry creatures.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19
Collections: Kinktober Horror Erotica Collection by Quentins_Quill





	Le Plat Principal Or, How To Prepare Your First-Year Boy

**Author's Note:**

> For Kinktober: The Queliot Edition, day 17: "Orcs, goblins, ogres or trolls."

“We are so screwed!” 

Eliot glanced at Margo as she spoke, although her eyes stayed glued to the sight in the clearing about twenty yards away. He tugged her back into the copse of trees that hid them from sight. 

“Shhh!” They’ll hear you!” 

“What are we going to do? This fucking magical blackout has us powerless, but if we don’t do something, Q is ogre chow!” 

Eliot looked out into the clearing For ogres tended a large fire and worked to grease a wooden spit. Tied to a tree, naked and gagged with an old piece of cloth, Quentin watched the proceedings with wide eyes. He’d been gathering spell ingredients in the woods when the ogres attacked--he hadn’t even been aware ogres existed in Fillory until they’d grabbed him and brought him to the clearing, and it was terrifyingly obvious what they wanted him for. 

“El, what are we going to do? We don’t have any magic or weapons and those things are more than twice our size!” Margo said, and Eliot forced himself to think despite the way his mind was screaming at him to get Quentin away from those hungry creatures. 

“I don’t know much about ogres, but they don’t look very intelligent.” He stepped away from the trees and Margo grabbed his arm. 

“What are you going to do?” 

“The only thing I can do--outsmart them.” 

“El!” She hissed, grabbing at him as he marched into the clearing with all the confidence of a successful salesman. 

“No, no, no!” He called in a strident tone, and the ogres looked up, their big, drooling mouths open. Quentin called out Eliot’s name despite his gag and Eliot shot him a look--hush and trust me. Quentin quieted, his brow slightly furrowed. 

“What human want?” The largest of the ogres asked, threatening Eliot with a grey fist roughly the size of Mt. Rushmore. Eliot smiled. 

“Why, just to help you, my friend! You clearly mean to prepare this delectable young thing for roasting, am I right?” He asked, nodding to Quentin. The ogre grunted. 

“Young, soft. Good meat,” it nodded, and Eliot made a tsking sound. 

“Yes, but you’re going to ruin him! You can’t spit a young human, you’ll damage the most delectable parts! Now . . . I’m something of a chef where I come from---how about I show you the proper way to cook this delicious young thing?” Eliot asked, and Quentin’s eyes widened again. The ogre snorted air out of his moist nostrils. 

“Why you help us?” 

“Because as someone who adores the culinary arts, I hate to see good meat mistreated. Now . . .” He went to a rough-hewn table where some crude spice containers sat, along with several long coils of rope. “As I was saying. You never spit a human this young. The organs are much too delicate. You slow baste him with a technique I invented myself, called the _gran bete_. Here, bring me that pole,” he said, and the other ogres brought him the spit. 

“It’s a special way of binding the meat, you see--here, gather round and I’ll show you--bring me the boy.” 

Quentin squirmed as one of the ogres carried him over. Eliot nodded. 

“Lay him there. Good! Now, this binding trick really brings out the flavor.” He began to tie Quentin to the pole in a complicated bevy of twists and turns. 

“Like this, and then this way, and a bit of seasoning in the sweetmeats . . .” Eliot shook some spices between Quentin’s legs, making him yelp in surprise. “And then this way, around the legs . . . here hold this part of the rope, please . . .” He handed it to one of the ogres. “Move closer please, I can only show you this once.” He weaved around them, ropes in each hand. “You have to make sure the limbs are bound just so, or they won’t roast right.” He glanced down at Quentin, now tied tightly to the pole, ropes criss-crossing his limbs and torso. Eliot seasoned him again and circled Quentin, nodding and murmuring to himself. 

“Yes, yes . . . that looks about right.” Eliot lifted the end of the pole where Quentin’s feet were tied. “And--” He turned and bolted, dragging Quentin along behind him. He pulled the free end of the rope, the rest of which he’d casually wound around the ogres’ legs and feet during his demonstration, and gave it a mighty tug. The ogres tripped and fell all over each other, cursing and tangled. 

“Margo!” Eliot called as he broke for the trees. “Help!” The pole bumped and jostled along behind him and Margo ran to them to pick up the other end. The two magicians ran for cover amongst the trees and back toward the relative safety of Whitespire before the ogres could find their feet again. 

___________________________________________________________________________

_ One hour later  _

_ Whitespire  _

“I still can’t believe you  _ seasoned  _ me!” 

Eliot chuckled as he scrubbed Quentin’s back with a soft lamb’s wool loofa. Quentin sat in a deep claw-foot tub full of warm water. 

“Desperate times and all that, Q. Without magic, it was all I could think of to do. Besides, I didn’t lie . . . you are quite delicious.” He leaned over and nibbled his partner’s neck. “I’m just glad it worked and that you’re safe.” 

“You saved me,” Quentin smiled and looked up at the taller magician. “What does  _ gran bete  _ mean, anyway?” 

Eliot leaned over to kiss him. 

“It’s French. It means ‘big idiot.’” 

THE END

  
  



End file.
